


If you'll only (open your eyes)

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Closet Sex, Declarations Of Love, Everyone Is Gay, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Pining Sam Wilson, Protective Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Team as Family, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21871510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: Bucky has to go to his (asshole) cousin’s holiday wedding that’s taking place a year to the day he was - sort of, definitely, no matter the circumstances - left at the altar. Unable to face going alone, he asked Sam to come along, as his friend, of course, what else would they go as?Sam has an idea or two, but his best friend needs him, so he keeps his mouth shut. For a while.Written for Prompt 10 of the Holiday Movie Challenge 2019, Marvel Happily Ever After
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Pepper Potts/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	If you'll only (open your eyes)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [betheflame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheflame/gifts).



_Thanksgiving D-1_

  
"I just don't know why you keep doing this to yourself man," Steve said and Sam snorted. 

  
He debated answering at all, choosing to make a full circle on his barstool instead, looking at Steve and Tony's kitchen morph into a blur of blues and grays. His elbows back on the counter, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose before stroking his hands over his face a few times. Nothing really worked, Steve was still looking at him out of the corner of his eye with that same all-knowing look that infuriated everybody but Tony Stark. And even he could get tired of it, sometimes. Not often. Those two were frustrating like that.

  
Sam huffed as Steve took out cookie cutters from the cupboard by the fridge and whipped back around till they were face to face again - leaves and pumpkins. Sam only raised an eyebrow at his friend, who just shrugged and pointed at the picture of his kids behind him. Sure. 

  
Sam was not jealous. He loved those kids. But. There was a but, Steve had no right to look all smug and paternal right now.

  
"You know, you sure can talk, looking all domestic now with your apron and oven mitts but how long did it take you two to get it sorted out uh? A long-ass time Rogers. I'm not doing anything to myself. Just...just helping out."

  
Steve bit his lip, looking behind Sam as the front door opened. He nodded to himself before rounding the island. 

  
"Keep telling yourself that, pal, all you want." 

  
And then he winked and welcomed his husband home. The asshole. 

* * *

Bucks - _"I'm freaking out. Dunno what to wear. I don't wanna go."_

  
Sam looked at his phone and sighed. He'd left Steve and Tony to argue over the kinds of pies they should serve the next night - when everyone and their SOs would gather at the Stark-Rogers table for Thanksgiving dinner - and had barely sat down behind the wheel when his phone buzzed. 

  
He frowned at his screen, his thumb hovering over the keys as he thought of what to answer. He pushed the call button instead.

  
It didn't ring more than twice.

  
"Oh man, thank you for calling, I'm sorry I'm a fucking mess I--"

  
"Shut up, J. I'm on my way, okay?" 

  
"Oh. Yeah, okay, thanks."

  
"You're fine, see you." 

  
And like that, Sam disconnected the call and sent his phone to plop on the passenger seat. Steve's words still echoed loud and clear in his mind, just as the look in Tony's eyes, his pursed lips, and the concerned squeeze of his hand on Sam's shoulder still burned right where it had landed. 

  
Fuck.

  
Sam wanted nothing more than to forget all about those two and go back to pretending obliviousness when it came to the matter of their shared friend and the fragile question of the feelings everybody knew about - except Bucky. Of course. Blind idiot.

  
Sam drove through the New York State countryside, trying his best to focus on the darkening road, on turning on his lights and shutting off his brain, on living the moment. Driving was a special pleasure of his, but it'd been a while since he'd been able to do it without feeling like he shrunk himself every time he so much as pressed a pedal. The hour drive from Rye Brooks to Bucky’s place down in Brooklyn should maybe do it. 

  
He huffed to himself when he almost missed the exit that would bring him closer to his _best friend,_ who was surely halfway through flailing to misery by now. He didn’t blame him, couldn’t, not when his cousin had chosen this exact date knowing full well what had happened to Bucky just a year before - _asshat_. This was going to be the longest Thanksgiving Sam had ever spent, but he’d not hesitated one second when Bucky had asked and he was not about to backtrack now. 

  
People could say anything they wanted about Steve’s recklessness but, Sam figured, sometimes it showed how they’d become such good friends in the space of a few months back in the day. Climbing club, fun times - and the appearance of gray hair on Tony’s previously immaculately brown head. He could do this.

  
Arriving in Bucky’s street snapped Sam out of his reminiscing, quite proud that he’d managed to think of anything other than doom really, and he pulled up into the private parking lot of Bucky’s complex. Fancy ass yoga coach. 

  
He rubbed his hands over his face a few times, chasing away the yawn that really wanted out and climbed out of his car. Not resigned really, but not exactly ready either. He patted his coat for the key Bucky had given him and started up the many stairs that took him to the fourth floor. 

  
The second he reached the staircase that stopped at Bucky’s doorstep, music started reaching his ears - loud already, probably banging-loud inside. Sam opened the door with hands that definitely did not shake and locked it behind him right away - no one had illusions about going home tonight. 

  
A beer, pearling with condensation on the coffee table greeted him first thing. Then one of Bucky’s infamous hoodies, strawn on the floor like it belonged there, then socks, and not clean ones, and finally, the man himself, in all his-- fuck, motherfucking glory: on a yoga mat, doing sit-ups, in nothing but shorts and a shirt so tight it was probably one of Steve’s. 

  
Sam didn’t even bother trying to make himself heard. He walked around the room until he found the one stereo that was blasting so hard - another of Bucky’s quirks, probably enabled by Tony, his place was filled with so many different sound systems Sam generally had to look for a good minute before he located the culprit.

  
“Hey!” Bucky sat up abruptly, “Oh it’s you,”

  
“Yeah, of course it’s me, you expecting anyone else right now?” Sam shook his head, a hand on his hip as he took in the exact state of his friend. 

  
“Hm, nah, sorry, I just figured you’d be awhile with driving from Steve and Tony’s so…” Bucky trailed off, waving in the general direction of his mat. He fiddled with a loose thread of his shirt. Avoiding gazes had become Bucky’s specialty since last year and Sam got it, he really did, but it wasn’t going to do right then.

  
“You’re a mess, aren’t you?” he sighed, his heart seizing a bit at the teary-eyed look Bucky gave him, “What do you need, uh? Wanna watch some crap TV, be nasty to the contestants, and cuddle?” 

  
Bucky sniffed a little miserably then, a hesitant ‘come hither’ motion of his hands following soon after and Sam went willingly. 

  
It was hell, being in love with someone who was hurting like this and constantly feeling shorthanded in the way he could help, even if they did have the kind of friendship that allowed for this - hugging Bucky close to him and rub his back in soothing motions.

  
“It’s gonna be okay, we’ll show them how you shine and they can all go to hell with their tacky old lady doily centerpieces.” 

  
There was a moment, when Bucky straightened up again but was still so close to Sam, a moment where Bucky looked at him like he’d found a lifeline at the bottom of Sam’s eyes, like time could stop and they would be comfortable right where they were, a moment- but no, Sam shook himself and stopped himself from brushing Bucky’s fringe back behind his ear. He got up clearing his throat and extended his friend a hand to pull him up. 

  
“C’mon, I think we can catch reruns of _NCIS_ or something,”

  
"You gonna be lusting after DiNozzo again or are we past that?" Bucky answered, his voice still wavering but smiling as he let himself be pulled up.

  
"Shut up, man. Gonna make us some hot cocoa, and there better be food in that fridge of yours, been watching Steve make cookies for hours and he wouldn't let me have one." 

  
"Should have some frozen pizza somewhere in there," Bucky called after him when Sam walked into the kitchen. 

  
"Will be right there, your _majesty_." 

  
Even then, in another room and with the state he'd found him in, Sam could tell Bucky would be smiling at that, a little lilt in the corners of his lips as he buried himself in the couch and blankets, waiting for him with the remote in hand and his bunned hair looking a mess. 

  
He focused on getting that hot cocoa started. Sugar fuel for the brave. Chocolate balm for the pining. Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapters next week ;-)


End file.
